But Walsh, who began under Gillman and Davis with the Raiders in 1966, might have the grandest legacy of them all.

Gillman, a Pro Football Hall of Famer acknowledged as the father of the modern NFL passing game, then Davis, the genius behind the vertical passing attack, handed off a young Walsh to Brown in Cincinnati in 1968.

He made the scholarly Walsh the offensive coordinator of his expansion Bengals franchise.

Walsh then found a willing and powerful arm in the likes of a young quarterback named Greg Cook, the AFL's rookie of the year in 1969. Cook passed for 1,854 yards that season, despite feeling a suspicious pop in his throwing shoulder.

No one realized that Cook's right shoulder and elbow had been irreparably damaged midway through his rookie season. Cook's promising football career was effectively over.

And Walsh had to retool.

Pure arm strength from an exceptional quarterback couldn't do it all, the coach surmised.

So the cunning coordinator devised an elaborate offensive choreography. His scheme was built on timing, precision, multiple sets, motion and quick drops by a powerful, smart quarterback -- the maestro whose footwork and vision conducted the entire symphony.

Eventually, the football would get downfield in a hurry, either through the air or in the hands of a running back set free by the frenzy of four or five receivers and tight ends swarming in routes.

How did Brown, so revered for his contributions to offensive football, view his innovative coordinator?

As a threat, Walsh would later say.

Walsh was convinced Brown was impeding his dream of becoming an NFL head coach, especially when Brown retired in 1975 and passed over his offensive coordinator to name offensive line coach Bill "Tiger" Johnson as his successor.

Stung by the move, Walsh resigned and spent two seasons coaching at Stanford before DeBartolo offered him his first crack at running an NFL show.

That is exactly what Walsh did.

His coaching style called for singular authority. The head coach, he believed, was the preeminent power broker. And the ultimate fall guy, if things went sour.

Walsh believed strongly in teamwork and commitment. As a teacher, he was as firm as he was genial. His sense of humor -- often bawdy -- always remained at the ready.

Above all else, Walsh valued honesty.

"Nothing is more effective than sincere, accurate praise," he once said, "and nothing is more lame than a cookie-cutter compliment."

Walsh's many coaching charges would reap fruit from their head coach, scripting championship teams and molding Pro Bowl players. They, in turn, spread the bounty far and wide.

-- Paul Hackett never became an NFL head coach but had considerable success as an offensive coordinator thanks to Walsh bringing him to the NFL in 1983 as a 49ers quarterbacks/receivers coach, succeeding Wyche. Hackett, in turn, would introduce Mike McCarthy and Jon Gruden into the NFL. And Gruden's offensive line coach at the Raiders, Bill Callahan, eventually became head coach of the Silver and Black.

Walsh's spreading tree, his incomparable lineage and legacy of coaches, is shaken somewhat today at his passing. But the branches are as strong as ever.